


Things You Said

by Darling_Pretty



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Mentions of Death, it all just depends on which drabble you're reading
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-18 19:30:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4717787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darling_Pretty/pseuds/Darling_Pretty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of stand-alone works centered around conversations Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter may have had through the course of their time together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Things You Said With Too Many Miles Between Us

**Author's Note:**

> All characters are the sole property of Marvel, Disney, and their rightful owners. All prompts come from a tumblr post. I make truly no money off of this.
> 
>  
> 
> While I envision at least a majority of these works to be interconnected, for the sake of everyone's sanity, let's just assume they are meant to be enjoyed as companion pieces but in no way constitute any sort of timeline, even a mixed up one.

 

The signal was full of static; Peggy could hardly make out his voice as she sat in front of the radio. But he was there and that was what mattered.

“Steve? Can you hear me?” She knew better, knew that she should use proper language, be official, but with no one but Phillips in the room, she didn’t care.

“Peggy— here.”

Even through the static she could tell that his voice was different, heavier. “Is something wrong?” she asked, worry that she had no right to began to creep into her chest. Was he hurt? In danger?

His answer was garbled by static— damn portable radio, she’d have to talk to Howard about it—but she managed to understand the words “Bucky” and “dead.” Peggy didn’t need much more than that to figure out what had happened.

She pressed the button to speak and then let it go. What on earth could she possibly say that could make losing his best friend any semblance of fine? She couldn’t and she knew it.

“Peggy, you there?”

In less than a second she was speaking into the radio, “I’m here, Steve. I’m here. Are you safe?”

“Yeah.” Even from hundreds of miles away, Peggy could hear the heartbreak, the pain, and she would have given anything to be able to lace her fingers through his, to lend him any sort of comfort she could offer, though she knew nothing would be enough.

“Come back, Steve,” she insisted. “Safely. Please.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean it, Rogers. Come back. I-” What was she going to say? She loved him? She needed him? None of that would help, especially not over the radio. “Come back.”

“See you soon.”

Peggy wouldn’t sleep until he and the rest of the team had been safely installed back at the camp, until he was back at home in her arms.


	2. Things You Said When We Were The Happiest We Ever Were

 “Steve, come here please!” Peggy’s voice was less than patient when she called him and Steve responded quickly, pushing off the couch and moving to the closed door.

“You okay?”

“I need you to tell me the truth,” Peggy announced as she pushed open the door. “How do I look?”

All Steve saw was a blur of white and his eyes darted straight to the ceiling. “Peg! Come on! I’m not supposed to see you in your dress until tomorrow. Remember?”

“No, _you_ come on. I need your opinion.”

“ ’s bad luck!” he insisted, staunchly refusing the temptation to look at her. 

She’d only hinted at the gown Angie had convinced her to buy—a sensible blue suit was fine to go down to the courthouse but this was _Captain America_ , and Howard Stark would be in attendance; there would be no escaping the press, so she might as well _look_ like a bride. Steve would have thought she looked beautiful in a potato sack, but he did have to admit that his heart clenched a little at the thought of Peggy walking towards him in a wedding dress. He sort of thought it’d be nice for it to be a surprise.

“No, come on. Look!” In his peripheral vision, he could see her trying to move to where he would see her. He quickly moved with a chuckle.  


“Steve!”

“Never took you for a whiner, Carter.”

“Come on, Steve. Just tell me what you think.” He could hear the dress rustle as she kept trying to move into his field of vision.

“Pegs, I love you, but you’re acting a little like a crazy person,” he laughed. 

“Just _look,_ Rogers. I don’t understand why you’re being so damn difficult!”

“Just trying not to jinx our marriage.”

“Steve, I need you to look. You have to tell me,” she insisted, a note of pleading in her voice that hadn’t been there before. Almost nervous. He wondered if she was as shaky and thrilled at the thought of forever as he was. “I’m not all done up, I didn’t even button all the buttons.”

To resist the temptation, he turned his back to her. They had less than twenty-four hours until they were due in Central Park. Part of him wished they had agreed to the original idea of a quiet ceremony on a Monday morning down at the courthouse, but Peggy had been quick to point out that he was a public figure and the public wouldn’t appreciate it— Steve had said hang what they want. But Peggy knew better than him and he suspected that secretly she wanted something a little more than a courthouse. All Steve wanted from the day was a happy bride.

It was still due to be small, though of course the press had caught wind. But Peggy had managed to keep Howard’s ridiculous suggestions at bay and there would only be a few of the Commandos— Dugan had committed to coming, so had Jones and Morita— Howard, and Angie. Phillips was set to make an appearance. Only the people they cared about. He wished Bucky were there to stand up with him, but he tried not to dwell on it. He didn’t want anything tinging the day with sadness. Not when it was easily going to be the happiest day of his life.

“Peggy,” he tried one more time.

“Everyone will be looking,” she said, breath coming shakily. “There will photographers and it’s- I know it’s stupid, but I just need to know if it’s alright. Please, Steve.”

He’d never heard her sound so unsure of herself before and that was enough to make him turn around, just like the sight of her was enough to make him feel as though he was about to have his first asthma attack since the serum.

Short lace sleeves gave way to a v neck, the lace neckline dipping to give a view of her more feminine assets. The skirt was fairly slim and only came to her just under her knees, which surprised him given the more voluminous silhouettes he had started to notice on the streets. Then again, she’d lived through the 30s and the war, and he knew just how hard the habits of rationing were to break. 

To him, she looked for all the world like a goddess. And this was with her hair pinned up to create curls, without makeup, or shoes, or anything.

“So?”

“You look…”

“Yes?”

“Wow.” It was the only thing he could say, shaking his head. How the hell had he gotten so lucky?

“Wow?”

Tentatively he reached out, hand coming to rest on her waist so he could tug her close. She moved into his arms with a small hum of contentment, resting her head on his shoulder. “Wow,” he confirmed.

“Not too much?”

“You might make Howard’s jaw drop, but you look _perfect_.”

He could feel her body go limp, becoming more relaxed. “Perfection doesn’t actually exist, you know,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“Then you’re doing your damnedest to prove that wrong.”

“I’m sorry I made you look.”

Her hair was soft against his cheek and he turned to press a kiss there. “It’s okay. It’ll be just as good tomorrow.”

“It was stupid.”

“That’s marriage, right? Loving someone even when they’re acting like a crazy person?”

She laughed and he felt better for hearing the sound, even if she pulled away. “Alright, Rogers, paws off the dress. I need to go take it off.”

“Want some help?”

He really should have known better than to try that on her. Her gaze could only be described as withering. Steve pressed a kiss to her cheek and retreated quickly

And the next day, when he saw her all done up with a bouquet of wildflowers in hand, he knew had been wrong. Seeing her like that, walking towards him in that gorgeous dress with an easy smile and glittering eyes wasn’t just as good as seeing her yesterday. It was _so_ much better _._


	3. Things You Said When You Were Scared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the delay! I was whisked away on a trip out of town for a couple days! But I'm back now and the goal is to write one of these every day and publish two or three a week.
> 
> As always, I don't own any recognizable characters.

The mission had all but gone to hell. The base they were attempting to infiltrate had been readier than anticipated and everything had dissolved into a chaotic frenzy of bullets.

Peggy insisted they press on and Steve agreed. At least until a sneak attack from behind put two bullets directly into her shoulder, causing her to cry out.

The pain was searing, blinding heat that clouded her vision and made the world go white around the edges. “Oh fuck,” she cursed, but turned and fired her gun. Her aim was off, but her boys had her six, and Peggy pressed forward. They had to complete this mission.

“Peggy, come on,” she heard Steve from behind her. Her attacker was dead on the floor now and the boys were on high alert. Her arm dangled uselessly at her side and the pain was only getting worse.

“I have to-”

“You have to get out of here, let’s go.” It was the most forceful she’d ever heard him and she let him yank her to cover while he radioed for help.

“You should go help…” she said faintly. The Commandos were still out there and they didn’t have their fearless leader.

“I gotta stop the bleeding,” he replied. “You’re more important.”

She’d yell at him for that if she weren’t being pulled into a world consumed by nothing except white heat.

His hand put firm pressure on her shoulder blade, shooting pain straight to the very center of her brain and she cried out again. Steve covered her mouth with his other hand- was she that loud?- whispered apologies and reassurance into her ear, held her tight to his chest. She was sure his uniform was covered with her blood by now.

What was taking everyone so bloody long?

“Peg,” he whispered. “C’mon, stay with me. Stay awake.”

“Can’t.” She was sure she sounded drunk, slurred and exhausted. “Hurts.”

“You gotta, babe, c’mon. Stay with me.”

“Don’ call me babe,” she scolded him, feeling her body start to tremble. Lord, it was freezing.

“How ‘bout love?” he asked, voice strangled.

“No.” He was trying to keep her talking but it was getting harder.

“C’mon, Peg, please stay awake,” His face buried in her neck, pressing kisses to her skin. She kept shaking in response. “Stay with me.”

“ ‘m sorry, darling.”

She awoke to yet more searing pain. She was in a cot now and Steve had her hand clasped in his. His head turned towards her when he saw her shift to get comfortable.

“Hey, stay still. You’re safe,” he promised. 

There was silence. She didn’t question him or wonder where she was. He was there and she trusted that.

“Jesus, Peg.”

His hand raked through his hair and she saw a few tears fall to create water stains on his uniform pants, slumped over as he was.

“I’m sorry.” As though it were somehow her fault for getting shot. But he was rumpled and messy and his eyes were red; she didn’t like being the reason he looked like that.

“Jesus. Just…”

“I’m alright.” She squeezed his hand, thankful he held her good one. “I’m fine.”

He pulled her hand to his lips, pressed a kiss to it. Her eyes were already starting to droop again. The thought that she was probably under sedation flitted across her mind but it was pushed out by his next words. They were quiet, shaky, more a unsure than anything. “Love you.”

“You’re only saying that because I got shot,” she mumbled, falling back slowly into that murky blackness.

Steve stood pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Love you,” he said more firmly and she believed him. But she was out before she could even formulate a response.


	4. Things You Said Under The Stars and In The Grass

If Peggy Carter grew old and tired, looking for stories to tell her grandchildren, these were the nights she'd look back on and share, she thought as she lounged around the campfire, Dugan’s raucous laughter nearly setting her on edge. She had to remind herself that they are well within their own territory, far behind the front lines making their way back to the base, not from it. There are no enemy combatants to worry about, not for another few days, not until the next strike. They could afford to be a little more relaxed and there was a frivolity in the air that was rare.

Listening to her boys swear, she thought she might clean up the stories a bit, but that didn’t change the almost romantic feeling of the night. These were the kinds of nights that men sang of to make war bearable- the camaraderie, the friendship, the closeness. How funny it was then that this was the furthest the war has been from anyone’s minds in weeks, that the moments meant to sing the glory of war were conspicuously lacking any trace of it, and instead settled into a rough and tumble peace.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Peggy turned from the fire and smiled when she realized that Steve Rogers was standing just out of arm’s reach. She thought it was sweet that he hadn’t moved into her space without bringing it to her attention. “Not sure they’re worth even that,” she commented.

“You could be thinking about the alphabet and a penny would be a bargain. Can I sit?” 

She nodded, gestured with an open palm. “Be my guest.”

When he lowered himself down next to her, she noticed the way he pulled his knees to his chest, rested his arms on them. As if he still wasn't comfortable with the amount of space his body required these days. It was charming.

“You were staring pretty intensely just now,” he said, still probing for those bargain thoughts.

“Where’s my penny?” she shot back and she was immensely gratified to hear him chuckle. The sound was low and deep and it sent shivers down her spine.

“You cold?”

He was already shrugging out of the bulky leather jacket by the time she protested that she was just fine. She didn’t protest too much as he drapes it over her shoulders. “Aw, gee, are you going to give me your ring soon so we can go steady?” she teased, adopting the flat American drawl she heard so often.

He laughed again. “That was pretty good.” Thankfully he knew enough to leave the “going steady” comment alone. In another lifetime, another world, they might have dated and he would have taken her dancing and stepped on her toes. But that simply wasn't the world they live in and so instead there was companionable silence and an unspoken agreement that maybe this could be something in a world at peace, but it wasn’t the time.

The crackle of the fire filled the night air and the Commandos seemed to be quieting down as the flasks ran dry. Peggy watched the way the shadows danced as they fell into a quiet moment.

“I was thinking I’m happy,” she said after a moment. “And how insane that is.”

His eyes were on her face, though she staunchly kept her eyes forward. “I don’t think it’s insane.”

“It’s war, Steve, not a picnic.”

“Still…”

She laughed a little, gaze pointed upwards to the heavens, where she could make out thousands of brilliant stars in the spaces between the trees. “It scares me sometimes,” she admitted. Maybe she wouldn’t have done it if the fire wasn’t warmth in the crisp night air and he wasn’t sitting close enough that she could feel his very presence washing over her. “That I can be happy like this, I mean.”

He shrugged. “I don’t think it’s the war that’s making you happy. It’s doing something that matters.”

“How poetic.”

“Just a thought.”

“I’ll give you a nickel for it,” she teased gently, stretching her legs out and resting her hands on the ground behind her. With her weight on her hands, she could look up more easily, gaze into that diamond infinity above. Steve followed suit after a moment and his left pinky brushed her right one as he did. “It’s a beautiful night though,” she commented, if only to prove to herself that the brief touch hadn’t affected her.

“Sure is,” he agreed, face straight up to the sky, but his pinky entwined with hers as he spoke, a tenuous, temporary connection. Easily broken, hidden in plain sight.

Peggy’s face didn’t change and neither did his. But she didn’t move her hand away and they sat and looked at the stars.

 


	5. Things You Said That Made Me Feel Like Shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All recognizable characters are the property of their respective owners.

“I’m _ready_ for this, Steve,” Peggy insisted, muscles in her throat corded as she tried her best to keep her tone even. Hysterics wouldn’t help her case right now.

“I didn’t say you weren’t!” His voice was less calm than hers and that somehow made her angrier; she was the one with a right to be angry.

“Really, then. If you think I’m _so_ ready, then why’d you ask Fury to stall on my paperwork?”

Steve’s face turned pale. He hadn’t known she knew and it was so satisfying to see the blood drain from his face. She’d been itching to get out into the field again, ever since Howard’s strange machine had managed to send her years into the future. She loved Steve, wanted to be with him, and she was so grateful to be there with him, but that didn’t mean she wanted to sit in an office anymore than she’d wanted it in 1946.

So when Barton had accidentally spilled the beans that Fury was delaying signing the order that would reinstate her field agent status, that _Steve_ had asked him to, well, the shooting range had gotten a good work out and then she held the secret close, let it chew away at her heart, her self-confidence. If Steve, of all people, didn’t trust her, who would?

“Peggy-”

“Save it,” she snapped. She didn’t want to sit through whatever lame attempt he had to justify going behind her back. “You clearly don’t trust me, so I don’t want to hear it.”

“Peg-”

“I am _good_ at this, Steve. I know you weren’t around to see it, but I am _good_ at my job. And this _is_ my job; this is what I love to do. And I am the _best_ at it. World class, in fact. So what I can’t understand is why you’re stopping me from doing it.”

“Times have changed….” But he says it with no real conviction and Peggy doesn’t buy it.

“ _Bullshit_ , Steven Rogers,” she snaps. Peggy hadn’t spent a year with the Commandos without developing a foul mouth, though she only swore when she was angry. And right now, he had her _livid_. “Absolute bullshit.”

“Peggy-”

“You _know_ what I’m capable of, you know what I can do. You’ve seen it yourself. It isn’t as though I haven’t saved your sorry ass more times than you could count. You know I’m good and you know I’m ready. I’ve been cleared by medical, gone through _countless_ hours of training, I can _do_ this. Everyone else knows I can do it. You are the only person right now who seems to doubt me, and you are the one person on God’s green earth that I never thought I’d have to prove myself to.”

She was yelling now. The man she loved was the one person in her life she had assumed would stand behind her, support her. Hell, during the war, he was _pushing_ others to take her seriously, to listen to her. She’d sat on a goddamn war council with him and now? Now he, like all of the men at the SSR, assumed her soft, too delicate. Incompetent. 

“Peggy, stop!” he finally yelled over her. She could count the number of times he’d ever raised her voice to her on a single hand. “That’s not it at all. You’re missing the point.” Steve looked tired, ran his hand through his hair. He wore it differently these days, more unkempt. She hadn’t minded before today.

“Then _enlighten me_ , Captain America. Why are you standing in my way? And why are you being such a bloody arse about it?”

He collapsed onto the couch, a puppet whose strings had been cut, head resting in his hands. “I can’t lose you again, Peg,” he mumbled, barely loud enough for her to hear. Peggy froze. “I know you’re ready and I know it’s selfish, but… I can’t lose you again.”

It was Peggy’s turn to simply say his name. “Steve-”

“Going into that ice, Peg, leaving you? It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. And then I woke up and you were _gone_ and now I just…”

She perches on the couch next to him, her anger melting away in an instant. She was still frustrated, but she could understand. “Darling, how do you think I feel every ruddy time you go away on a mission? Because I can _promise_ you, I’m not jumping for joy.”

“Yeah, but-”

“I thought I lost you in Austria, and then I _did_ lose you. I kept moving and you will too. But give me _some_ credit, Steve. I know what I’m doing.”

He’s curled in on himself, closed off to her touch. “You’re braver’n me, Pegs. Stronger.”

She chuckles, though there’s not joy in it. “I hardly think _that’s_ true.”

“No, it is,” he insists. “Waking up and knowing I’d lost you… Peg, I couldn’t do that again. I really couldn’t. It’d tear me apart. And I know I should have talked to you about it, I shouldn’t have lied. But… you want this and I want you to have everything you want. I just… Losing you scares me. I can jump out of airplanes or fight aliens, but losing _you_ is what gives me nightmares.”

Peggy didn’t know what to say. What _could_ she say? She pulled his arm around her, tucked herself into his grip. Used gentle hands to tug his face to hers so she could press her lips against his. “Then let’s make sure you don’t lose me, alright?” she whispered. “I’m going to be reinstated, Steve. You can’t stop me.”

“I know. And I want you to, I do. I just don’t… love it. But you’d be wasted anywhere else, Peg. I’m not an idiot, I know that.”

“Well then,” she sighed, kissing him again. “Looks like you’re just going to have to get used to having my six again.”

He finally cracked a smile. “Never stopped having your six.”

She smiled back, pulled him closer. “I know.” Her legs slung over his, effectively putting her in his lap, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as she leaned in for another kiss. There was only a centimeter between there lips when she paused to say, “But you’ve got to talk to Fury tomorrow morning or you won’t have to worry about losing me because you will be a dead man.”

He promised and she swallowed his laughter as she pressed her lips to his.


End file.
